Haskins worked around the clock, rarely taking days off and in a short time, he oversaw many improvements. He seeded the fairways and greens, built traps and fairway bunkers and established the framework of a championship course. He told club officials he would need professional help to properly design the additional six holes and with interest in golf at its zenith, the club invested $10,000 for improvements.

A year after accepting the CCC position, he began his first Saturday morning golf clinic for boys and girls of all ages, believed to be the first in the country. All the youngster needed was a nickel and a spoonful of desire - it would be years before the fee increased to a dime, which went to pay the caddies who shagged the golf balls. “Each one got individual instruction, not in groups,” Haskins says. “ They were out there from 8:30 to 12 and I’d have little pitch and putt contests for them to keep them busy until their turn came and I’d give repaired golf balls as prizes.” (First prize was always the same: a used, repainted and polished golf ball worth around 35c)

He was the assistant to the famed Stewart Maiden at East Lake in Atlanta when Bobby Jones asked him if he might be interested in another job in Columbus, Ohio. If so, he thought he might be able to get it for him. “In the meanwhile, I had this offer of a job as an assistant in Detroit. And I was all set to leave for Detroit. In fact, I’d already gotten my ticket and called Maiden to tell him goodbye.

Almost always, he wore a hat, either a fedora, occasionally a Panama or, most of the time a Ben Hogan-style cap. Haskins almost always wore a tie in public. No one remembers him without his pencil-thin mustache.

Haskins talked about a session he observed between Stewart Maiden and Bobby Jones when Jones stormed off the 18th green after a miserable round:

He came in the clubhouse and called for Maiden to meet him at the practice tee. As I watched him giving Jones a lesson, knowing that Jones was furious with himself and everything around him, I learned a valuable lesson. For 30 minutes, Stewart said absolutely nothing. Jones, still mad and upset, kept asking why he didn’t say anything. After about 20 or 30 shots, Jones realized that his temper was what ruined his golf game and that Maiden was not going to say anything. As Maiden headed back to the clubhouse, his only words were. “Bobby, your swing looks great. I will see you tomorrow.”

Fred received his first set of clubs when he was 5 years old, a cut-down collection from his father’s shop. Using those ragtag clubs, he puttered balls around whenever he could. When he was old enough, Tommy and Bert - his older brothers - started giving him lessons, planning to turn him into the boy wonder of British golf. Half a century later, he remembered every piece of advice they shared with him.

The year was 1970 and the event was the Dixie Intercollegiate at Callaway Gardens. A bunch of college golf coaches were sitting around talking. The subject: Lanny Wadkins, then a Wake Forest senior, who the year before had accomplished something quite incredible. As a junior, Lanny Wadkins finished either first of second in every tournament he entered. Problem was there was no way to acknowledge Wadkins’ feat. There was no award to recognize the best college golfer.

His pupils were captains of college golf teams, including University of Georgia, Rollins College, LSU , Georgia Tech, Auburn, the University of the South and the University of North Carolina. His golfers won the Western Open, Western Amateur, Southern Amateur, Southeastern Amateur, Georgia State Amateur, Georgia State Women’s, Worldwide Air Force championship, George Hamer played in the 1947 and 1948 Masters, and Hugh Royer even went on to win two PGA Tour events; The St. Charles Open and The Western Open.

Fred Haskins recalling a conversation with Charlie Hall, Birmingham Country Club Pro; “I told him I was making $6,000 a year and he said, ‘Nobody can make $6,000 a year’. But I told him, ‘I’m in there with an apron on all day, making clubs, not just sitting around.’ I got orders from all over in the later years for sets of clubs like I’d make for Lt. Such-and-Such when he was stationed at Fort Benning.”

“He came to America to see if he could advance himself” says Magdalene “Joyce” Miller, the oldest of his two daughters, both of whom live in Columbus. “The war was over. Instead of going home to England, he decided to come to America.” He came to Staten Island, N.Y. to live with his sister, Lucy and her family. In New York, Haskins did a little bit of everything. He worked for his brother-in-law Walter, who was in the import/export business. He tarred roofs. He cut hair. He even gave indoor golf lessons at a golf school in New York City.